Return to Power
by AGDude
Summary: A noble and her bodyguard go to Morrowind after a terrible event. There, they plan to rebuild and become an influential force allied with House Hlaalu.
1. Chapter I: Arrival

Well, I'm back, with another Morrowind story! This one is a tale of a noble and her bodyguard as they attempt to establish an influencial force through House Hlaalu. Or at least, that is how I have it planned for right now. Here's the first chapter:

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Somewhere, off the west coast of Vvardenfell, two travelers sat in a small wooden boat after a devastating event. One, the daughter of a powerful noble, had witnessed a tragedy beyond her belief. She had returned home to find her father's estate ridden with Dremora. Her father had been killed, along with the rest of the staff, excluding one being.

That one being was the other fellow in the boat. Armed in full daedric sans helm, it was a wonder they remained afloat, and going so quickly east. Accompanying the lady in her travels, he served as a bodyguard, and a very good one at that. His skills and abilities far exceeded even the armor in quality.

The noblewoman, a Nord name Irena, was clearly troubled by the recent events. She had some magic potential, and had trained a little in various schools. The Nord had blue eyes and long blonde hair. She appeared to be a calm determined spirit despite what had passed. While most would spend so much time mourning, she was willing to continue her life.

The name of the other traveler was uncertain. He was simply called "Dakron". There was something burning in his dark eyes. The mysterious warrior had vowed to protect Irena long ago. Most would say he was a Dark Elf. Others weren't exactly sure. Some knew him as a dark knight, as no doubt he was brutal in combat. The look on his face screamed of madness, but his actions showed distinct obedience to his "client".

"Please forgive me for being unable to protect them, my liege," requested the bodyguard.

"It wasn't your fault. Your job was to protect me, and you have done well. I just don't know where to go…" assured the noble.

"My job IS to protect you, my liege. And we are to Vvardenfell. I know your father had connections with House Hlaalu. We will work something out."

Time passed, and the pair had found themselves on the marshy shore of the province. The Bittercoast Region looked very unwelcoming, but there was nowhere else to go. Upon landing, they abandoned the boat.

"From here, we must head south," advised Dakron. "Then we should reach Seyda Neen in time. The silt strider will take us to Balmora, where we can make contact with Hlaalu."

Irena remained silent. She was slightly worried about running into trouble, as their landing spot was known for thieves and smugglers. Staying too long would guarantee trouble, and Dakron knew it as well. But, in a way, he liked trouble. It was his job to get rid of it. And he enjoyed every second of disposing of it.

The climate was humid in the swamps of the western coast. Fungus of different sorts covered the trees, and ugly small creatures crawled about the land. The path was very worn and easy to miss. Things seemed a bit quiet, until a nix-hound came charging at Irena.

As it jumped it instantly split in two.

Dakron sheathed his daedric dai-katana, and the pair continued their journey south. Things went quiet again, but not for long. A strange-looking Nord with fur armor and a battleaxe could be see off in the distance. The travelers did not alter their course. They met him on the path.

"Greetings. You should take care while in these parts. There are murderous outlaws about. No telling what might happen to an unwary traveler," said the stranger.

"Oh we know that. It can be bad out here…" replied Irena.

"Oh, yes, these are dangerous times. They'll rob you blind and cut your throat without giving it a second thought. It's a bad idea to carry anything of value on your person. In fact, it's probably best if you give me that gold of yours...100 septims, perhaps? I think you'll find the way less dangerous if you do."

Dakron laughed out loud, then slowly drew his dai-katana, obviously catching the Nord's implications. "How stupid can one person be? Do you think my equipment is just for show? I will spill your guts across this very road if you insist on this impotent cockiness." The guardian finished drawing his long blade and pointed it at the outlaw. "Now I highly recommend you reconsider your decision or face a fury greater than that of Oblivion!"

The lowly thief turned and ran. "A much wiser choice, scum." "We had more than enough money to pay him. Couldn't we have tried to work something out instead of scaring him? He may have really needed help…"

"Then you should have spoken sooner, my liege. But if you wish to continue your father's legacy as a nobleman, you must show your force, and use it when necessary to stay on top. Many mortals are corrupt individuals. It is up to you whether or not you wish to sacrifice your time and effort to see if they have the potential of good." His own words bit him deeply. He knew he wouldn't sacrifice, in most any case. But that was no longer his decision anymore. It was her decision, and his views were but advice. That was the way he wanted it in the first place.

They would reach Hla Oad very soon. There would be rest for a little while. Irena was still weary from her father's death, but kept her strength. "This town is rather small, but we can stay at Fatleg's Drop Off until we are ready to proceed. Do not worry too much, it will all be settled in time."

Dakron wasn't quite sure if he was comforting her, but he resolved to keep trying. At least until things became more stable.

* * *

As before, if something does not make sense, is grammatically wrong, or sounds stupid, please tell me! I am willing to take many plot suggestions as well, because I'm honestly unsure where I will be going with this. 

Oh, and I'm thinking about character submissions too. If there is enough support for this, I will have a sample character form made out at the end of the second chapter. Thank you for reading, and please leave a review!


	2. Chapter II: Panic

I don't know why, but for some reason I'm a little sketchy about this chapter. As always, please point out any errors I may have made in lore, grammar, or spelling. If something sounds really stupid, please identify it in your review.

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Working in the High Fane of Vivec had always been pleasant. It was almost as pleasant as being Patriarch of the Temple. 

Tholer Saryoni wrote his sermons diligently in his office, preparing to teach the innocent masses in the ways of the Tribunal. He thought a bit about that new Diviner who had been climbing the Temple's ranks. A Breton, Mosely had some experience in curative magic, a big plus for the temple. Curing the diseased was certainly a most pious act.

Saryoni hoped he was a selfless individual, willing and ready to submit to Vivec. As he thought of this young man, another servant of Vivec entered his office and left a note on the desk. It was headed boldly with "URGENT".

The Archcanon placed his quill in the inkwell, and began to read the important note.

_URGENT_

_A powerful darkness has come to our humble province. This demonic presence has vast potential to annihilate the people of Vvardenfell. You will be working with Mosely to prevent this unholy being from causing havoc. Meet with him as soon as possible for more details._

_-Lord Vivec_

Saryoni was overwhelmed by his Lord's orders. What creature could make Vivec himself concerned? He rose from his chair and walked into the public area of the High Fane. The Breton with blue eyes and short black hair was awaiting his arrival as expected.

"Now, Diviner, what is the Will of Vivec?" inquired the Archcanon.

"You see, oh Great Patriarch, a monster beyond the power of any Dremora has come to terrorize us. He may appear mortal, but we cannot allow him to live. He is a potential threat to all," explained the Diviner.

"Ah, I trust Vivec, but even I am curious. What is he, and what terrible powers does he have? I must know his identity," demanded the Patriarch.

"Here are the records, my lord. There was so very little even our God could foresee." Mosely handed Saryoni a scroll.

Saryoni unrolled the scroll and proceeded to read:

Name: Unknown

Race: Unknown

Class: Unknown

Possibly immortal

Sword-user, has magical potential

WARNING: SUBJECT HAS CONNECTION WITH OBLIVION AND HAS POTENTIAL TO UNLEASH "DEVILTY". APPROACH WITH CAUTION.

"By Almsivi, I thought we rid Tamriel of these in the Old Crusades! And we left him the time to develop his strength! This is madness!"

"Please, calm down, my lord." The Diviner assured him, "We still can act. It seems that he isn't using his powers to destroy at the moment, as Lord Vivec has sensed. We have time."

"You are right, Mosely. Where is it headed right now?"

"Vivec can see that he is in the Bittercoast Region, heading east, possibly to Balmora," replied Mosely.

"Then we shall send three high ordinators and seven standard ordinators to intercept him at the port and gate. If we can take care of him immediately, perhaps this matter can be resolved quickly. Is there any way we can identify it?"

"We should give our forces the stone of St. Erinus, for as you know when it glows it senses the presence of Oblivion," answered the Breton.

"Oh of course, I must be losing my focus. No matter, gather troops and station them in Balmora."

If the being had realized his abilities, there was no telling what destruction would ensue.

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Okay, on to character submissions. I really don't think I will have a companion/enemy/neutral system as some relations may be mixed or change. Use this form: 

Name:

Gender:

Race:

Class:

Most Valued Attributes(2):

Most Valued Skills(10):

Starting Weapons:

Starting Armor:

Birthsign:

History:

Personality:

Physical Attributes (age, height, eye/hair color, etc.):

Factions:

Alignment:

That should do it. Please read, review, and submit!


	3. Chapter III: Submission

I waited an extra week so that I could get some more characters, but it seems they aren't coming. So I cut this chapter a little shorter than I intended. I really need a good idea of how I will mold this plot, and without the characters, there isn't much of a story...

* * *

The long winding trail did have an end. The path hit Seyda Neen, and the Silt Strider was in sight. Both travelers felt a sense of relief.

"Twas' a draining trip, but we can ride the remaining distance," stated Dakron. Irena nodded in agreement.

After boarding the giant creature and paying a modest fee, they left for Balmora. Dakron unsheathed his sword, and began to contemplate.

"(He is here. No doubt he knows of my arrival. Unless something is to be done, much blood will be spilt on my account, and my liege will be threatened. Perhaps I should resolve this in the easiest manner.)"

A couple hours passed aboard the titanic insect, and Balmora was in sight. A group of ordinators were in sight too, and at seeing the two had moved within the gates. They made an ordered formation at the foot of the strider port.

"My liege, please, hire some willing mercenaries while I am gone. I hate to leave you now, but there are important matters to which I must attend," said the bodyguard to the Nord, now almost asleep.

"Be extremely careful here."

They docked, and Dakron exited quickly.

"Halt. We are under the orders of Our Lord Vivec to search for a certain individual- ˝

"And I am that individual. Now let us head outside Balmora to discuss business," he said as he is headed out the gate."

"There really is nothing to discuss," replied the high ordinator as he and his squad followed the knight outside Balmora's walls.

Dakron headed outside then stopped with his back turned to the guards. He drew his dai-katana…

The ordinators drew their own weapons- maces and swords…

Slowly, the mysterious being turned and cast his sword upon the ground. "I wish to speak with Vivec."

At first, the ordinators were dumbfounded. This was supposed to be the unstoppable killing machine Vivec had prophesized? Perhaps it was a matter beyond their mortal understandings.

"What makes you think we can set up an appointment for you to see a god?" inquired one high ordinator.

"Then allow me to see the archcannon. I do not wish to fight you. Despite your merciless slaughter of my brothers, despite my hatred forever swelling in my soul, despite my desire to tear apart the flesh straight off the bones of every one of you, I will not fight you. Just lead me to the Temple of Vivec."

Weapon still drawn, another high ordinator asked "And what do you intend to _do_ in the Holy City?"

"I intend to arrange a long-lasting peace."

After a moment of hesitation, the blessed warriors sheathed their blades and maces. "Well, then obviously we won't fit on the silt strider, so I suppose we should take the long road," stated an ordinator. "(Amazing, these followers aren't blind killing machines. It seems this religion is far more open-minded than it used to be,)" thought Dakron.

Meanwhile, the lady had gone to the Fighter's Guild in search of a few mercenaries. This proved fruitful; four Dunmer were willing to sell their swords for Irena. Armed in full Bonemold, they appeared to be experienced in combat. However, they weren't the best on the province. Although this was true, they would do until Dakron returned. Or so she assumed.

Her bodyguard and his "captors" had already left. But she worried not, as the city was a familiar sight. In her earlier years her father had made trips to Balmora, on Hlaalu business, or so he said. She climbed the stairs to an inviting square, with the Hlaalu Council Manor located in the center of the block.

Entering the manor, the noble was greeted by an old Dunmer lady.

"Welcome to our fine house, outlander. We greet you warmly."

"I do appreciate it. I have had a long day," replied Irena.

The old Dunmer caught a glimpse of the family crest embedded on her fine robe.

"Oh my… you are Irena?"

"Yes, I am." She kindly answered.

"Well now, make yourself at home. We know your father well in this town. My name is Nileno Dorvayn, at your service," explained the lady.

Irena sat down and began to explain what had happened in the past couple of days. She included every elaborate detail, remaining calm yet hurt through reliving the experience.

Nileno began to console her. "I am so very sorry for this loss. All of our House will be mourning over such a tragedy. Your father was truly a great leader. Let us talk upstairs, for there is much to discuss this upstairs, and you look a bit weary." The mercenaries remained in the foyer.

"Now, you were destined to become a House Mother in place of your father. However, we have seen that you have studied guild politics extensively, and are eligible to be promoted to the council," said a very enthusiastic Nileno.

"It would be an honor, Madam Dorvayn," said Irena, accepting her proposition.

"But, there are a few things we need you to do before promotion. Most of this is just standard routine to adjust you to life on the council. In our archives are a few papers regarding the histories of our current councilors. You should find them far more informative than the Yellow Book of Great House Hlaalu. Also," at this point Nileno's voice dies down to a whisper, "we have some content regarding our enemies that you should see, including some incriminating facts." Her voice returned to normal. "Of course, you know our current affairs here are recovering from the tax revolt. It was just a minor incidence, and nothing to worry about. We have had sufficient funds to lower them, and now the public is swaying back to our side." At this point Irena was sleeping.

"Oh, forgive me! Your trip must have taken a lot out of you." The Nord opened her eyes.

"We have a small house in this corner, recently constructed to serve as a guest house. You can find it near the alchemist's shop. It isn't much for a person of your caliber, but it may do for today. I beg you, get some rest, then return here."

Slightly embarrassed, but without a word, she left for the day.

Far away from Balmora, a dark figure was watching, preparing to strike…

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**Necromancer and Sorcerer: **Thanks for the characters. I didn't use them yet because, once again, I need to have a better idea of what other characters I will be using before I throw in too many details. But so far there are plans for your characters. Big plans. 

Please read, review, and submit! And tell me if I made a mistake somewhere!


	4. Chapter IV: Capture

Well now, another chapter is up! Per usual, I would appreciate any reviews. Also, if you find something that is grammatically wrong, sounds dumb, or doesn't settle with the lore, please let me know.

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It was dark. Houses, guilds, shops, and all else were in ruins. In the streets, a thick, flowing blood ran in the gutters. The remains of men, women, and children were staked with spears and blades on what remained of the buildings. The charred skeletons of faithful guards helped complete the nightmare. There was no one capable of saving the town from him. He, that one dark figure that stood in the night, reveled in his revenge. More would have to die for _their_ sins. And more would die. Until he was stopped, Nirn would slowly turn into a wasteland of the dead…

The images of the past raced through his mind in meditation, sailing to Vivec's Temple. It was over, and should have been over sooner. Surely the Temple must recognize this. "(For the peace of the universe may it end!") thought Dakron. He trusted the decisions of these ordinators would prove fruitful.

* * *

Elsewhere a dark cloud loomed over the northern shore of the province. Outcast by both mortal and immortal alike, lost souls took it upon themselves to forge their own destinies. Leading these determined beings was a testament of hidden power; embodying the true sense of vampiric superiority, Tichondrius housed a vortex of power and domination.

But the mighty vampire lord's clan wasn't fully invincible.

If the Great Houses were to lead a crusade on the vampire clans, his would fight valiantly, but their success would be disputable. This had perturbed him for the past days, but finally an opportunity to safeguard such an encounter had arisen. In recognition, he called forth a meeting in the Great Hall of Arkanmathet.

Indeed, the place was fairly eaten by both dust and rust, which bothered the nobler undead. However, the Great Hall was of grand size, and showcased some of the most well-preserved dwemer equipment, along with daedric of course. As the dead travel fast, the meeting began early like always. Jovi had provided the blood of their finest cattle to serve in exquisite goblets. She saw the glimmer in Tichondrius' brown eyes. It only came in times of opportunity and bore the need to celebrate.

Tichondrius stood from the ancient seat and began, "Ulicia, Celia, Jovi, Erkan, Solius, our time of glory is at hand. Perhaps you have had nightmarish visions, far surpassing the normal reminders of our special conditions."

At this the members of his elite council squirmed at recalling the signs. "That amazing power you have witnessed will be ours. I know how to take it, and I know how to harness it." Tichondrius began to smile, already feeling the amazing force of his desire.

Ulicia took advantage of this silence and posed a question, as most of the others had not the authority, "Why do we need more power than we already have? No matter what opposing force expresses hostility, we have the ability to counter it through another course of action. Shouldn't we be focusing our efforts on balancing our faction relations as opposed to finding a new resource?"

Solius then began, "My lord, if prophetic vision proves true, this might we search for is contained by only one being! How do you intend to persuade him to join us?"

Tichondrius sat back down. "Both of your inquiries are valid, if not slightly defiant. Nonetheless, it is a single spirit that holds our goals. And this single spirit is eternally bound to another pure bloodline. It functions as the guardian. The balance in the bloodline has been disrupted as of late, and we must act quickly to extract such energy. If not, our opportunity will be lost. The bloodline he guards is the door. Our great minds together forge the key."

"Your knowing nature never ceases to astound me, milord," commented Celia, and all began to praise their master's new plan, until Erkan cautiously brought forth a new question.

"Lord Tichondrius, I applaud your strategy. But, I hesitantly beg that you reassure me of one thing. As we all know, tampering with any great power could result in a potential backfire at a certain point, success or failure. Should we be willing to accept this, and if so, how costly could it be?"

The vampire lord began to narrow his eyes at his fellow clan mate whose tongue seemed to venture into dangerous territory. For a moment he neither spoke nor sent a telepathic message. Then he said, "Very, I must admit. But then again, our success will guarantee this clan's perseverance for many ages to come. We will rejoice in our newfound power soon."

* * *

The next morning a weary mage hiked with her mercenaries on the path to Caldera. She was sent to meet with a Dunmer named Helvi, intent on discussing the ebony trade. Balmora and Vivec have both recognized some bugs in the matter, claiming the funding is inadequate for a mine as large-scale as Caldera. Even without this knowledge, Irena didn't trust the elf; her mystic sense told her something wrong.

She however mistook this for a more immediate instinct. Her party was so preocupied with making good time, they neglected to realize that they had been followed.

They struck fast in their chitin leather. The rogues were armed with daedric wakizashis, and knew well the chinks in the mercenaries' bonemold armor. The five rogues managed to outmaneuver and kill two Dark Elves in the first strike. The remaining two mercenaries fought back, striking mortally two through their light armor. Two of the other rogues struck them through their helms, while the last one cast a paralysis spell on a very confused Irena. After causing brief chaos, the three were swiftly off with their prize.

* * *

Mosely trembled at the unholy being's presence Vivec's Temple. It simply wasn't right. "(How could the ordinators allow such a thing?)" the Diviner asked himself. Saryoni appeared more open-minded.

"Despite all the havoc you have caused, you still wish for peace?" asked the Archanon.

"Yes, and the sooner the better," responded Dakron.

Saryoni then heard Vivec's words of wisdom: "Let him come to Me, I sense he has changed."

Saryoni led the way to Vivec's Palace as the ordinators and a dumbfounded Mosely followed.

After a brief walk from the High Fane to Vivec's dwelling, they all entered the complex. This was quite an unusual event, but then again, these were quite unusual circumstances. Upon entering, Dakron himself was the first to kneel to the god. He was about to begin, but Vivec already started.

"There is no need to speak, I know what you seek. There is but one thing you must do, and forever will you be free from My wrath. Travel with the ordinators I sent you, and go to Arkanmathet in the North. I do not require that you annihilate all of the vampires in this base, but you must aid My followers in an attack. They are a very powerful breed similar to Aundae. This is your task, now go."

There is little more to tell regarding their departure. Silently, the assault party was on a vessel of Vivec and traveling to the Dwemer ruin.

* * *

I'm hoping I was accurate with how you wanted your character portrayed, Necromancer and Sorcerer. Also, I would really like anyone who has a character to submit too! 


	5. Chapter V: Butchery

Sorry it has been a while! I am pretty sure there has to be a grammar error somewhere in here, so if you spot one of any kind, please tell me! I've been working on and off on this.

Also to Necromancer and Sorcerer: The Priestesses(sp?) are still there. Those were simply of the "High Council" of Clan Tichondrius. As you said yourself, the clan was pretty large, so there are varying ranks, as you will see in this chapter.

* * *

"Cease your murderous acts!" demanded a robed figure on a hill. 

The walking mass of terror stood before him in a defiant manner. It itched to taste his blood. It longed to rip his skull straight off his body. Blinded by a deep hatred, the demon had no intentions of submitting to his mystic adversary.

Slowly it advanced, grinning with what some may call a face. There was no sign of flesh on the thing. It seemed merely constructed of metallic armor, awkward chains dangling from niches, and bones and bloody weapons which dangled from the chains as trophies from those who resisted his onslaught.

"If you strike me now, you will lose whatever chance you would have to remain in existence. This realm is not like your old home. You will fade here as a mortal, dying slowly. Only I harbor the key to this small salvation. So, hear my proposition, or may your petty vengeance be for naught!"

Merely the jumbled images of a forgotten past.

Standing aboard the vessel, Dakron foresaw the fall of the division accompanying him.

"(They have no chance. They have entirely no idea what they are fighting against. Vivec has sent his die-hard believers to the meat-grinder. What a waste, Hmph.)"

Suddenly one of the crew called to dock at a nearby port. The squad was to pick up a couple soldiers on the way. "(A few extra to kill off. Perhaps he believes I will save them, redeeming myself?)"

"All aboard!"

The remaining ordinators climbed on the ship, changing posts from missionary work to assault. ("He honestly can't believe I can protect this many…")

"Where is the last one?" inquired the head ordinator.

"He must be late," responded the second in command.

"I'm here! I'm here! Please, let me on!" screamed a very young adventurer.

"I didn't know we were hiring mercenaries, too. Get on quickly, ere we part!"

Dakron was further disgusted. ("By the Gods, this is ludicrous.")

"So you brought us the girl?" questioned Tichondrius.

"Yes, here she is," replied the cloaked figure heading his gang.

"Now where's our pay?" asked another.

Tichondrius laughed as his followers grabbed them and feasted to the very last drop…

Time passed, moving at a snail's pace for the ardent warriors. It mattered not to the dark one. Events would occur in proper order. There was no point in wishing for the inevitable.

"You there," Dakron addressed the mercenary in what seemed to be a menacing tone.

He walked closer to the Imperial. The fearful one's first instinct was to back away, but he was frozen by the terrifying gaze. The dark knight stood mere inches away from the horrified man.

"Do not fight this battle. You will stand no chance," declared Dakron in a whisper that seemed vaguely telepathic.

Soon after, the party had arrived at the docks. It would take a little marching before they confronted their adversaries. As the ordinators began to gather their weapons and armor and organize a battle formation, a strange feeling hit Dakron. He fell to his knees. Then the guardian let out a deep inhuman roar.

"(Contain it! Contain it! Damnation,)" he told himself.

He rose to see his entire company staring at him. Grunting, he simply joined in their ranks, at the back of the party alongside the mercenary.

"What is your name?" whispered Dakron.

"Sir Harris" replied the young fighter.

"Sir? You do not dress like a knight," said Dakron, referring to Harris' leather armor.

"My father was of the occupation. I had planned to join the legion, but wanted to get some training with freelance work," explained Sir Harris.

"You picked the wrong job," commented the dark knight. "Your father didn't simply teach you and allow you to inherit his position?"

"Oh he did, but he also wanted me to work for my strength as well," said the mercenary.

The conversation ended abruptly. They had reached Arkanmathet.

And standing about the now-haunted ruins were soldiers. The foot-soldiers of the Clan Tichondrius. They were mostly armed in bonemold, some glass, bearing silver swords. The dark one stood evaluating his adversaries. They were by far not the best the clan had. No doubt they knew he was coming. They amounted simply to free kills for his own pleasure. His chance to have some fun. Like long ago…

"Enjoy my offering…" whispered a voice in Dakron's head.

Despite the amazing fact that something had penetrated his mind, he remained as still and emotionless as a rock, much unlike the ordinators charging at the undead enemies. Harris began to follow their lead, but Dakron grabbed his shoulder. He remembered his words.

As the locking of maces and swords ringed out, the ordinators were but slightly outnumbered. However, the outcasts of the outcasts were far better at maneuvering than the fiery followers. Familiar with the chinks in their armor, the holy warriors fell quickly, stabbed in vital parts. Harris couldn't take watching them die. He charged angered, drawing his custom-forged sword. One vampire quickly cut his in the stomach, and he fell too. He was barely conscious, but not dead.

"Hmph," grunted Dakron. "How pathetic."

"Indeed, and you're next!" replied one of the undead.

"Do you realize why you were all sent out? You decimated those forces so quickly, it seems odd that your leader would give that many for such an easy job."

"You cannot fool us!" answered another. "We are proof that the Temple nor any clan nor any faction can penetrate our invincible forces!"

"I am neither the Temple, nor clan, nor faction," responded Dakron.

"Then prove it!" yelled three vampires as they charged at the dark knight.

In less than a second the tips of their swords and heads had been severed. They all fell to the ground, and there stood Dakron, bloody dai-katana drawn, grinning with pleasure.

The rest came quickly. One strike fell, severing a limb, then another, tearing two in half. A thrust through the head sent one more to his final death.

But in this position he had left himself open. Five more stabbed, thrusting blades into the dark one at different parts of his figure: through the leg, one in near the heart, another in the left side, two in his arms, and yet another in the neck, all blows penetrating his armor.

Sir Harris watched in horror as his last ally endured such pain. He began to despair, eyes closing slowly…

And what followed before he had given up completely was a crimson vortex of suffering, a hellish might ripping the vampires to mere shreds.

At demonic speed a lethal blur ripped across the mountain terrain to the remaining few vampires. They all faced a quick death by a violent spinning blade wielded by a fierce being.

The dark figure ripped out the blades protruding in his limbs following his massacre, and then licked the blood off his own, with deep enjoyment. But upon realizing what he was becoming, he stopped instantly and held his forehead, eyes bulging at his regression to beast state.

"(I must contain it, or chaos will ensue.)"

He walked slowly over to his wounded friend, and casually dropped a healing potion from a compartment in his armor.

He looked at the ruin itself. On a higher level, a Dark Elven vampire stood, looking down upon him.

* * *

As I said earlier, there are probably some grammar errors lingering around somewhere, but I don't know where they are. 

Please read, review, and submit! (Yes, you can give me another one Necromancer and Sorcerer)


	6. Chapter VI: Proposal

I'm very sorry, but I have really begun to lose both time and inspiration. I don't have much at the moment. So I will give you this VERY brief chapter, and hope to offer a better one later. I may think of ending this, with hopes of a sequel, unless my ideas really begin to swell.

* * *

"So you are the one he sensed…" said Solius atop the stronghold. "I see now your true strength." 

Dakron grinned. "Well, consider yourself lucky to have the pleasure of remaining alive. I will leave now, as I now longer have a debt to repay." He turned, heading to the southern path.

"Wait, fellow immortal," shouted the vampire. "Where are you heading?"

"To Balmora, so I may trouble your clan no longer," responded Dakron.

"Your prize awaits in our glorious base, warrior."

Dakron froze for a moment as his eyes widened and teeth clenched. He then realized their plan, the trick that would force him to change his loyalty.

Drawing his weapon once more, he approached closer to the entrance. "Do you really think it is that easy, toady of Tichondrius? Do you honestly believe that I would bow down and serve you pathetic club as a dog!"

"You understand not, being of the darkness." explained Solius as he cast slowfall and dropped to the ground.

"We mean not to harm you. We simply ask that you join us. We can work together and become a powerful, unstoppable force! I beg you consider how we can fulfill your true desires. Even your current master will join us, so you have nothing to lose. Make the choice!"

Dakron opened his mouth, but before he could utter a word an archaic language rang, and a strange high velocity magic projectile collided with Solius, disintegrating his body upon impact. The echo of his scream in pain was all that remained of the victim.

Dakron turned to the spellcaster, who was also happened to be a vampire. A grey-haired, scarred wizard in but a plain robe stood before him with an air of respect. His fangs were quite evident in his smile.

("By the gods does this bloodsucking madness ever end!") thought the armored one with a headache.

"Hello friend. I'm sorry I had to execute the fellow, but I do believe you will find my offer much more suitable to your needs. You see, I am Adwin MageBlood, and have been bent on killing these annoying folk for quite some time. If you help me, we can take care of this lot, retrieve your friend, and I will put in a good word for you and Hlaalu with Aundae," proposed the nightblade.

Dakron was not fully impressed. "A better one I grant, but I fear my master would be rather hesitant to ally herself or her servant with vampires of any kind. Simply attempt to limit tensions with the clans."

"Then we have a deal if so?" inquired the anxious assassin.

"Indeed, we have a deal."

* * *

Again, really short, and probably an error somewhere. If you happen to find one, tell me and I will get rid of it. Either I won't have anything for a VERY long time, or I will have something VERY soon. Just had a lot of work to do lately. 


	7. Chapter VII: Invasion

Well, if anyone is still following the story, it is safe to say that I've lost the inspiration to continue. This will be the last (very, very short) chapter of Return to Power, but it is very possible that a sequel story may be written should I regain interest. Until then, I give you this.

* * *

By this point Sir Harris had regained conscious. He pulled himself to his feet and watched as Dakron bargained with the strange assassin, and then approached them. He had recovered just enough to return to battle.

"Okay so are we going in?" he inquired.

Dakron turned his head slightly toward the young knight, and answered "If you follow us, you will face opponents far stronger than the one that cut you earlier. If you wish to walk a narrow line with death, then come. Otherwise stay out of this. Neither of our priorities is protecting you." Adwin gave a silent nod.

"Well, I'm coming with you. I should fulfill my mission for the Temple."

They approached the door to the ruins, then slowly entered.

* * *

Meanwhile Vivec had called forth a meeting with a privileged few. Accompanying the hailed god stood Saryoni, Mosely, and the high ordinator Drake Kanar, ready and willing to fulfill their appointed tasks.

"How may I serve you, Lord Vivec?" faithfully inquired the divine one's servant.

"Your skills may be needed in the future, but as of now it is too late to give support to the earlier unit. I am however interested in tracking his progress, as he appears to have shrugged off past hostility. But if ever he were to use _it_, then we would call upon you to act. Do you understand?" asked Vivec rather darkly.

"Yes milord," responded Drake.

"Good, so now we must wait and see what comes to pass…"

* * *

Sorry for the length, but with hope I will return to this project sometime in the future, when my ideas have swelled.  



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